The Hunger Games: The Forgotten One
by DomoFan122
Summary: Shay Undersee is the mayor's daughter in District 12. She is the district's "sweetheart". She has such a wealthy family, nobody thinks she'll be chosen. Until she is. Will Shay be able to fight off the others to come back to her home of luxury? Or, will she die trying? Read to find out! Please review! Thanks!
1. Introduction

**Hello! This is my third fan fic that I have created! I really hope that you enjoy this and please check out my other stories. Thanks! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the concept of the Hunger Games**

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**The Hunger Games: The Forgotten One**

**Introduction:**

Nobody ever thinks about **the** rich mayor's daughter.

No one ever remembers the girl in the back of the line.

The quiet girl is the one that is always **forgotten**.

No one knows the **one** that got away.

Until they enter the games.


	2. Strawberries

**Hello fellow readers! I am sorry for my absence, I have just been packed with some vacations, and I am now on summer break! WOO! I will be uploading much more over the summer, so keep watching! Also, If you are a reader of Lola's story, another one of my FanFics, I may be putting that into storage to make some changes before reloading it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games in any way.**

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Chapter 1: Strawberries

I woke up to feel a slight chill in the room. I tugged my soft covers around me, hoping that I could create a shield from the world. I flopped down on my pillows, and surrounded myself with blankets. It did no good. It was like being dragged into a black hole. Today was the day of the reaping.

I can hear my mother, Madge, downstairs in the kitchen, preparing our breakfast. I quickly tossed on my favorite white cotton dress. It was my favorite, even though my mother never let me wear it to the Reaping.

I stumble down the stairs, still groggy from my sleep. I pass my little brother, Liam, on my way down the stairs. He chases me until we reach the bottom floor of our house, also known as the kitchen. My mother is leaning over our wooden table, the morning light from the window shining on her pale skin. My father is perched in the chair next to her, sipping a cup of expensive coffee.

My father was the mayor of district twelve, so we could afford certain "luxuries" that maybe other families couldn't. I plopped down at the wooden table as my mother set a sweet bowl of strawberries in front of me, and I popped one into my mouth. They were so sweet and ripe, and we had collected a large basket of them for the victory dinner after the Reaping.

My family and I always enjoyed making a luxurious dinner and celebrating the joy of not being inducted into the Hunger Games. We would usually bring out some rare foods that many people in District twelve had never seen. We would gingerly sip on glasses of orange juice, and snack on warm bread from the bakery and blocks of cheese.

I sit at the table as my mother places a bowl made of faded wood and a small plate to match. In front of me sat a steaming bowl of hot Porridge with a plate of bread and cheese, along with a glass of orange juice. I sip the orange juice gingerly, as my mother sets down a bowl in front of my brother Liam, containing Beef Stew with a side of hot grain. He sticks his tongue out at me, and pushes the bowl of mucky food away. He then grabs a roll we purchased from Mellark's bakery, and dips it into a glass of brown liquid we know as hot chocolate. My little brother is the picky eater of the family, though he is only nine. I sigh with a slight grin on my face as I swallow the steamy breakfast. No matter what happened to me, no matter what happened to my family, Liam would always make me laugh. I stand up from the table and grab a basket made from some type of flimsy wood that I can't remember the name of. I remember making it when I was a little girl at the age of seven, thinking the Hunger Games was just some big joke or something. I pile in a small amount of strawberries. As long as I remember, we had a small strawberry bush in the back of our small colonial house that I would always pick off of. The red fruits always enticed me into some type of sugary trance, so I always loved them. Ever Reaping Day, I would carry around my small basket of strawberries and sell them to any family that wanted to have the sweet fruit on their dinner table when they know their children have been saved another year.

I snatch my basket and walk out the door and down the cobblestone steps down our colonial home. Our home was almost smack in the center of town, so walking to the Reaping was never a problem. I passed and sold to some of the expensive shops in town, such as the bakery, then traveled to the edge of the border.

I would always sit on the edge of the fence and look out into the forest, and today was no exception. I gazed through the metal chain-linked bars and looks out into the green lush forest. I always felt that I would fall of the face of the planet, just looking into that green void.

I could see a deer behind some mossy oaks. I just thought of how majestic it looked, gracefully moving, not a thing on its shoulders. I guess I sometimes wondered what it would like to be an animal, such as not having to worry about the Games.

I snapped out of my hazy state to see a boy with shadowed blond hair sitting next to me. "Hey, Daikon," I say, passing the basket of strawberries over to his reach. I continued to stare ahead of me, but we he talked to me, I turned to him. "So, ShareBear, what's new?" I didn't even know why he called me ShareBear, but I guess he thought it sounded remotely similar to Shay. He always made me laugh when he said that. I turned to look at him.

We looked nothing alike. I guess some people thought we were twins when we were little, but we have become molded to look different. He had long blond hair with brown and almost black streaks in it that covered his eyes. Some of those streaks were his natural color, and others were from catching animals in the woods. He was in desperate need of a hair cut. He had bright green eyes that could pierce a whole into your side if he wanted you too. Though, I think the most unique thing I admired about Daikon was his name itself. He was named after a root that he used to love eating when he was younger.

I, on the other hand looked completely different. I had long dark hair that looked like almond butter, according to my mother. It fell just below my waist. I had quite a tan complexion, at least compared to some of the other kids in District 12. The characteristic about me that intrigued most people was my eyes. They are bright blue, like the vibrant rivers that Daikon has told me about from the forest. When people first see me, they are usually startled by how bright my eyes are.

Daikon and I didn't have much in common, either. I was a fortunate daughter of the mayor, while Daikon and his family lived on the edge of the District, and Daikon hunted for his family.

I looked back up at him. "Nothing much." We had a way of speaking to each other that was like a silent language. Even though we were not always verbally communicating, we could still know what was going on between each other. We sat there for a while, not speaking, just eating the lessening pile of strawberries that sat between us.

Finally, I whispered something in a small voice. " Are the odds in your favor?" I hated to talk about this subject, especially since the odds were always in **my** favor. But, I had to face the truth. I had never had to sign up for the tesserae, but Daikon did several times. "I'm not sure Shay, but let's just not think about that. I only have one more year to face." Daikon was 17 years old, while I was 16. " I'll either die in the Hunger Games, or die of starvation!" He mimicked in a mocking voice. I reached into the bottom of the basket, but all of the strawberries we gone. I sighed and got to my feet. I supposed I shoud be getting home so I can get ready. Daikon stumbled to his feet too, gave me a quick (and awkward) hug, and we both headed our separate ways.


	3. Chapter 3

**Helllo fellow fanfictioners! I want to start off by apologizing for my temporary leave. I have had an abundance of reunions, surprise vacations, and ice cream boats, and now the summer is almost over! Where have the months gone?! :( Though, I am glad to give everyone the next installment of this story! Also, I mentioned this is my last update, but I have temporarily deleted Lola's story. I want to make some changes to the plot, but it will be up soon! Also, if you have any suggestions/ideas/comments/questions, feel free to PM or review! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the idea of the Hunger Games.**

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Chapter 2: Goodbye or Hello?

I reached my home and secretly went up the stairs. I was late and would have to hurry if I want to make it to the Reaping on time. _But why should I even have to go? _I thought as I went into the bathroom to clean up. Our family didn't have to shower in buckets like some of the others families in District 12, but we didn't have a touch pad electronic shower either. It was an old wooden looking thing that was made out of some type of wood, with some silver pipes leading to a shower head. I think my dad must have built it when we were little, because I had used it as long as I could remember. Unfortunately, the water never got very hot, but it was better than bathing in a bucket. I gingerly stepped in, and took a quick shower, because I could hear Liam banging on the door!

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I finished my shower and opened the door, in which Liam made a beeline for the toilet. _Wow, Liam._ We had a separate bathhouse outside, but everyone preferred this one. I went across the hall to my bedroom, and was able to choose from many of the dresses that hung in my closet. (aka: a rickety piece of wood that opened to probably a 4x4 foot space with metal rods on the wall.)

I picked a green dress, with pink flowers spattered across the front and back. I never really wore it often, so I decided to wear it today.

I slipped it on and moved to my vanity, and did a look-over in the mirror.

I looked myself up and down, and I have to say, I looked nice. _And girly._

I looked at my mop of hair and sighed. It looked like a tangled mess! I could have just gone down to my mother and asked her to do it for me, but that was the one flaw my caring mother had. _She could not do your hair to save her life. _She barely knew the term of the ponytail, much less a braid, so I learned for myself, from some nagging from some of the girls in the District. I did my hair into a quick side braid, and plopped down on my bed. I laced up an old-looking pair of leather oxfords from some animal I did not know the name of. _It's weird how time does that. _I looked myself over in the mirror one last time, before stepping out of my room and closing the door shut behind me. I slugged down the steps to find my mother and brother sitting at the table. Now it was just my dad we were waiting for. He gave a small speech at the beginning of the Reaping every time, and this was no exception.

He appeared at the foot of the steps a few moments later, and we all headed out for the square.

We split up as we saw the crowd slowly gathering for the Reaping. I slipped into the line with all of the other girls, after getting my finger pricked, while my mother and Liam slipped into the stands with all the other parents. The parents in the stands were either concerned for their children, or could care less since it was one less mouth to feed. I could see my father zig-zag among the crowd to the front of the stage, where he stood polished and prominent, like he was every year.

We were one of the last families to show, so the "ceremony" didn't start long after. I stood there, bored, like I usually was. Since I had never had to sign up for the tesserae, a meager supply of grain and oil, my name was only on five slips of paper. Unfortunately, since many of the girls my age were forced to sign up for the tesserae to provide food for there family, there names would be in there about twenty times.

I looked up toward the stage to see the usual setup. Four chairs line the back of the stage. Every since the 74th Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Mellark have been the victors that will train and shape the new tributes. Then, one chair is for my father, the Mayor, and finally, Effie Trinket. Effie is the representative for District 12, so she basically takes us to the capital and tells us all this boring stuff we could care less about. Her blemish free skin and bubblegum pink hair have been replaced by wrinkle lines and pale pink locks, though she still acts like she's twenty-one. Her neon orange suit makes me wants to gag, and her shoes clink on the stage and she settles into her seat. I look to the sides and see two jars almost piling over with starch white slips of paper, and a wooden podium standing tall at the center of the stage.

We hear the familiar chiming of the town clock striking two, and my father steps up to the podium to deliver his yearly speech.

I love my dad, but he really isn't the best at delivering public speeches. And to make matters worse, it is always the same old speech, about the Dark Days and Panem and blah blah blah. I honestly fell like I'm in history class! Then he goes on to explain the rules of the Hunger Games, though we all know them by now.

"Now, it is time to give thanks to all of District twelve's victors," my father said as he reads off a tiny slip of paper that hold a meager four names. Three of them are still alive. First is Haymitch Abernathy, an old man who still hasn't gotten over his horrid drinking problem and the fact that he is always constantly eating something. He has really taken. It's hard to imagine he won the Hunger Games, when he surely has claimed first prize for the eating games. The last two are the Mellark's, Katniss and Peeta. They entered the 74th Hunger Games, and they both came out alive. Applause ripples through the crowd as he finishes off the list and moves aside and bubbly Effie Trinket comes up to the stage. I can see her slightly stumble as she reaches the stage, but she acts like nothing ever happened.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She plasters a huge smile onto her face, but everyone knows its fake. Her face practically sags with all of the wrinkles that line her face. Her pale pink hair looks like a sick pig as the crosses the stage over to one of the glass bowls. "As always, Ladies first!" She digs her knobby fingernails deep down into the bowl, slips of papers overflowing onto the stage as she digs. It almost seems like she's digging for a particular name that was carefully etched onto a slip of paper. After what seems like ages, she finally draws out her long fingers to reveal two slips stuck to each other. Without a second thought, she plucks off one of the slips and lets it free-fall back into the bowl. She clomps back over to the podium, dragging her metal heels across the stage. She grabs a pair of neon blue glasses out of her suit pocket. Her perfect vision has now been replaced with her not being able to see ten feet ahead of her. She unfolds the crisp sheet of paper and projects the name loud.

"Shay Undersee."

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**Thank you guys for reading my story! If you have any comments, questions, or ideas, feel free to review or send me a PM! Thanks!**

-_DomoFan122_


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